A 666 Park Avenue fan-fic/AU
A/N: Although circumstances may change now that the network has decided not to continue our new program, the performances of TOQ and VW are far more convincing to me than any others on the show. They come across as being a "together couple" through thick and thin, although not always motivated out of the goodness of their hearts. We'll see. I have slightly modified/re-ordered the chain of events as we saw them in the last few episodes.
As we await the final episodes (not sure about the delay tactics by ABC), I think of this story as very, very Alternate Universe. No telling how much conflicting "show canon" information the writers will give us as we unfortunately approach the end after cancellation. I am having a hard time considering either Gavin or Olivia as evil all the way through; manipulative, yes to both, and very. It will be interesting to see how Sasha Doran/Laurel Harris is involved in the stories/history of the Drake.
Summary: For many different reasons, some spoken aloud and some not, Gavin Doran considers Olivia to be his greatest treasure. In the aftermath of the Drake's annual Halloween party, he has to decide how best to protect his wife from his enemies, and from himself.
Rating: T for increasing sexual content (Plot? What plot?)
Up in the afternoon quiet of the Drake's penthouse suite, Gavin sat in an antique armchair, his necktie loosened but his shirt still crisp, absently picking at a seam with his right index finger while he cradled his forehead in the other hand. He felt tears gathering and he sighed dolorously, a rare moment of self-doubt as he replayed the basement-conversation with Victor Shaw in his mind.
"She found out about you, what sort of man you were," sneered a bruised and battered Shaw as blood trickled down his shirtfront from wounds to his mouth and nose. Tied hand and foot as he was to the old office chair, he couldn't move, and so he concentrated his voice on the attack of the man who sat so arrogantly before him. "You terrified her."
Terrified. His own daughter had been terrified of him. Sasha.
He uncrossed and re-crossed his legs, switching to the other side as he shifted in his seat, and he heard the elevator open and shut in the nearby foyer. There was a shuffle of shopping bags and keys as Olivia stepped in, her high heels clicking on the polished tile of the entryway.
"Sweetheart?" she called, dropping her parcels from the day and undoing her gold-threaded overcoat; her footsteps now fell almost silently on the thick Berber carpeting. "What are you doing, darling?"
Olivia could not remember the last time she had seen her husband sitting in a somewhat darkened room like that, hiding in the gloom. Gavin Doran was not one to hide, from anyone or anything.
"Gavin, it's me," she said softly, noting that he barely moved, not looking up as his fingers nervously picked at a loose thread of the upholstery, lost in thought.
"I had a chat with Mr. Shaw," he said after a long pause, his throat gravelly in his sorrow. "He told me something that was quite disturbing."
Olivia felt like ice water had been poured down her back as she suddenly recalled when she had last seen Gavin sitting alone and troubled as he was now. It had been ten years ago, on the night that…
"Sweetheart? About what?" Olivia was hesitant but she already knew what their conversation topic had to have been. She heard the tears in his voice.
"About our daughter."
"What about her?" Again, Olivia was hesitant and waited patiently for him to continue, hoping that her intuition was wrong. It most certainly was not. Her heart pounded in her throat as she felt a chill that raised gooseflesh up and down her bare arms.
"Victor Shaw is of the opinion that she didn't die in that car by accident," said Gavin softly. Sadly. "He thinks that she took her own life and he says that you know this. Is it true?"
He finally looked up, acknowledging her presence, and the rawness of his grief, of the wounds reopened after a long decade had passed, broke her heart. His eyes widened in disbelief as he watched her rather guilty reaction, and he stood, crossing slowly over to her.
"How do you know?" He felt betrayed by the one person he loved more than his own life.
Olivia clasped her hands together, pleading with herself or pleading with him to understand. "There was a note, from Sasha. I burned it, I'm sorry that I kept it from you." She swallowed, bracing herself for the next admission that she would now make.
"Gavin, she said some terrible things about you…" Now she gasped sharply as he grabbed her arms, suddenly very angry but still under control. He would not leave bruises but his grip on her elbows was firm.
"I don't need protecting!" He sharply emphasized each word, shaking her with each syllable. His eyes flashed dangerously and she watched his jaw muscles clench as he ground his teeth, fighting to keep his rare, volcanic temper in check.
"I know you don't…" A part of Olivia was fearful at that moment, remembering a man from her past and remembering his violent, aggressive, and abusive reactions. But Gavin was not this man. He had rescued her from him.
And banished him to a red box.
"She was my daughter too! How could you keep this from me?" he cried, his voice cracking as anguish overtook anger. "I had a right to know…"
Olivia reached for his shoulders, tears quickly gathering in her own eyes because she knew the depth of her husband's pain and of their shared loss. "Because I loved you and I don't apologize for that. I didn't want to see you get hurt. Gavin, she was gone." Gone, a body burned beyond recognition in a black BMW two-door.
She held his face in both of her hands, tenderly brushing away a tear that had fallen with her thumb. "Victor Shaw is using this to divide us. The most important thing is that we get that red box back." Olivia could be strong too and she could see that Gavin's mind was coming back to the issue at hand.
"He hit you with the one thing you couldn't bear," she declared, knowing full well how true it was. "Return the favor." Olivia reached up to kiss him softly. She wanted Gavin to reclaim his power.
And Gavin had promised to protect her. Always. His breathing gradually calmed and he closed his eyes, relaxing as she held him, stroking his cheeks with her fingertips. He nodded, stepping closer and wrapping his warm arms around her.
"I will," he said, leaning down to kiss her hair, breathing in its floral fragrance. "I will."
Olivia nodded, tilting her face upwards and inviting him to kiss her. She snaked her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his and she delighted when he eased one thigh intimately between hers, pulling her closer as he kissed her mouth. Olivia groaned soundlessly as his hands possessed her buttocks and he held her tightly to himself.
"I promise, Olivia. I will," he said again. She felt his arousal, and his strength, and knew that he would do exactly that.
Gavin Doran slid the painting down, covering the electronic keypad panel of the safe, and he nodded with grim satisfaction. He had "returned the favor", tricking his enemy captive into revealing a secret, thereby allowing him to retrieve the very important red box.
It was a skill he didn't quite understand, and neither did he question it. Doran was able to appear to Victor Shaw as his long-dead father, Josef Luken, and learned the hiding place of the red box.
"St. Thomas' Church," said Doran/Luken. "It's hidden at St. Thomas' Church. Thank you, Mr. Shaw."
"What did you say?" Shaw was delirious from dehydration and the after-effects of Kandinsky's not-so-tender pugilistic treatment of his face and body.
"The red box," said Doran simply, appearing now as himself.
"I was dreaming…"
Gavin chuckled at the man's obvious confusion, getting to his feet to leave as Shaw struggled impotently against his bonds when he realized he had just given himself away. "Doran! You son of a bitch!"
Doran now compulsively shifted a small stack of manila folders, tidying up the business of the day. He turned to pour himself three-fingers of Scotch on the rocks, sitting back down and feeling better about the well-ordered world around him. He pointed a small remote control at the vertical blinds and drapes, opening his office window to expand the panoramic night view of his city.
His New York City.
"That's better," he said to himself, sipping the single-malt and allowing its mixture of fire and ice to course down this throat.
"Gavin?" came Olivia's voice from the bedroom suite, and he heard her soft footfalls as she made her way through the foyer to his office.
"In here, my dear," he replied, pushing his chair back from the desk to make room as she came to him. He smiled up at her.
"All well?" She cast a nervous glance toward the painting that she knew covered the office safe.
Gavin took another sip of Scotch and nodded. "All is well, Olivia. I was able to get the red box this afternoon."
She sagged with relief. "Thank you, darling. Thank you." At his inviting gesture, she sat elegantly upon his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him.
"I keep my promises, my dear," he assured her, kissing her cheek and offering her his glass, which she sipped and then handed back. "Is this new?"
He grinned, rubbing the black satin of her robe in his fingertips. Olivia chuckled softly. "It is, to replace my other ruined robe."
"Ah, I see. I do apologize for that," he said, raising one eyebrow at her. "But I do not regret it."
Olivia smacked his shoulder half-heartedly, leaning in to kiss his mouth as she smiled. As Gavin deepened the kiss, his hand wandered to the open slit of her robe, feeling the soft, bare skin of her chest; he loved to feel the weight of her breasts in his palm. With his other hand roving as their tongues gently dueled, he realized that she wore absolutely nothing underneath the new black satin robe.
"Hold that thought," said Gavin abruptly, helping her to stand carefully as he got to his feet and stepped around to the front of his desk. She watched with amusement as he moved the Chambered Nautilus shell and its brass stand, placing it on top of a nearby bookcase. He returned to his office chair, encouraging her to sit in his lap again.
"Rearranging furniture, darling?" she enquired.
"Mm, no, strategic relocation is more accurate," he replied, kissing her once more. "I'd rather it not get broken while I am taking the pleasure of your beautiful body here in my office."
Olivia chuckled, feeling rising warmth from her core to her neck and face when his nimble fingers undid the sash at the front of her robe. She gasped when he reached in to explore the damp folds between her thighs. "Why Mr. Doran, are you saying that I am about to get laid on your desk?"
She shifted her legs, giving him better access and she felt a soft laugh rumble deeply in his chest. Gavin was still fully dressed in his slacks, shirt and tie, and here she was writhing wantonly in a new satin robe that hid nothing from his gaze.
"Oh yes, Mrs. Doran," he said as his fingers teased her relentlessly. "In fact, quite a few times if all goes to plan tonight." He could feel her panting as he kissed away any protestations and his hand stimulated her well on the way to her first orgasm.
Olivia gripped his shoulder and upper arm, holding on for dear life as she gasped and moaned in his lap. His fingers penetrated her deeply while his thumb exerted just the right amount of pressure and friction elsewhere. She quickly lost all coherent thought as her body reacted to his loving attention. Her head fell back as she gasped and Gavin continued to kiss her neck and her shoulder, whispering encouragement in her ear as she fell farther and farther into her bliss.
"Gavin! Oh!" she cried, shuddering against him as she begged him not to stop. He himself struggled for control when his hand at last filled with very wet evidence of her powerful orgasm, and her muscles clenched tightly around his fingers.
Beads of sweat rolled down her neck and she leaned her forehead against his chest. Slowly her breathing returned to normal, coming back to her senses and she felt his warm lips and tongue on her skin. Gavin carefully withdrew his hand and brought it to his mouth for a tiny, sensual taste.
"You are delicious, my dear," he told her. "And I love how you come for me."
Olivia laughed breathily, getting to her feet despite still wobbly knees. "How can I not? I love what you do to me."
Gavin's eyes sparkled as he looked lovingly up at her face, leaning in to kiss her belly button. "So delicious." He stood, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her again. "Ready for more?"
Her eyes widened at his wolfish smile and he turned her around, encouraging her to lean forward over the top of his desk. She felt a cushion as he tucked it underneath her tummy, for her comfort against the cold glass covering, and she heard him lower the zipper of his trousers after the rolling chair squeaked back several feet.
"Why Mr. Doran, you weren't kidding…" she teased as he probed and then slowly penetrated her from behind. She purred with pleasure as he stroked, in and out, her hands automatically reaching out to grasp the far edge of the desk.
"No, darling, I would never kid about something like this," he said quietly, gripping her hip and pulling her to his core. He chuckled, one hand massaging her bare buttocks under the hem of her robe as he moved slowly to their favorite rhythm. "So delicious."